Lycanthrope

Chapter 12

The patterns in his iris reminded me of a painted flower. One so old that the paint had cracked, leaving thin white lightning trails though the image, they were pretty - pretty and close.

Near enough that I could feel his heat and hear the rhythmic breathing that matched my own.  "Hi.." He whispered, lips almost brushing my own at our proximity.

"Hi." I replied, voice a pitch too high. Adam smiled, chuckling at first before throwing his head back in great belts of laughter. I looked on dumb struck as his laughter turned to chokes, hiccups then sobs as tears streamed down his cheeks. Suddenly he engulfed me in his arms.

"Thank you." He choked, nuzzling his rough cheek against mine, "Thank you, thank you."

I had never seen a man cry like this, and I never expected to see such emotion from a man such as him... He looked so strong, like someone who would always bare a stoic face, and yet now he bore no physical traits just emotion in all of its raw, uncensored heat.

Rubbing his back and stroking his hair, I swayed softly from side to side - like a mother would whilst comforting a child- trying to restore some peace in his mind.
We stayed that way for a short while, until he gave a big sniff and pulled back to wipe his bloodshot eyes.

He laughed quietly, "Sorry, that was embarrassing." Adam said hoarsely.
"It's fine, we all cry sometimes." At that moment I thought he was going to cry again; his eyes welled up but he blinked them away before they could spill, I looked on sympathetically.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name." He said awkwardly, stretching an arm to push back the hair hanging over his flushed face. My eyes unintentionally followed as his muscle flexed.

"Lydia, Lydia Saunders." My hand stretched out instinctively for a shake before me even taking note, it was met with an unexpected response. As Adam seized my hand in his own much larger one, and took it to his lips where he place a small kiss on my knuckle.

"Well I'm Adam, Adam Hushton."  He smiled, then rather abruptly he pulled my arm towards him, so much so that I followed suit and collided into his chest with an oof as we both went down onto the furs. Adam cuddled me to his side, like it was a perfectly natural thing to do, "And I can't even start to explain how nice it is to meet you." Softly he clasped my hand over his heart, looking at me with hazy eyes.

It felt like I'd known him my entire life, and with every slow echo of his heart it felt like he was being imbedded more so into the fibres of my being. It curled my toes and made my head spin, not unlike the effects of alcohol.

"What is this?" I asked, mildly confused.
"Our bond, the proof we are made for each other." Adam hummed back, quietly as if to not disturb the moment.
"Mates." I muttered, the disbelief slowly draining from the word. There was little I could do to deny it anymore, part of me accepted it, wanted to comply and beat down the deviant side with fists of insight and what I already know through my studies in the military. It made me pliant.

"I don't even know you..." My eyebrows creased.
"Then let us talk." We both had a sleepless tone in our voices, like we were about to drift off any second. "I'll start." His glazed eyes pierced into mine, like he was about to divulge all of his secrets onto me. "I was born in 2016, in a not-so sunny little town called--"

"Wait, how old are you?!" I shouted in disbelief, a bit too close to his ear.
He winced, "Well... What year is it?"
"2556." I replied eyes wide, I knew werewolves could live for a while, maybe one-hundred to three-hundred on average, but I guess it applied to lycans more so.
"That would make me," he paused, looking to be doing a quick calculation in his head, "five hundred and forty, this year at least." I looked up at him slack jawed, his face was smooth and showed none of the harsh lines of age, "I'm not that old."
"You're over five centuries old..."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty six."
"Ah."

There was a silence for a while as I took in the situation, until Adam spoke again, asking to continue his story; to which I nodded, still in an kind of awe.

He talked about his parents, who he'd lost a century before the war, then taking over leadership of the wolves, being apart of the out coming of the supernatural creatures and telling how it had gone so terribly wrong. By the time he had finished telling me of the war and how he ended up chained by his pack mates, the shadows had grown long and whilst being caught up in his baritone voice, my eyes began to slip closed.

Adam pulled the furs around us, almost creating a nest, and pulled me closer. His lips grazed my cheek, almost hesitantly, before he whispered good night and led his head down next to mine.

AN: It's completely unedited but unfortunately all I had time for, so if you see any mistakes please shout them out.
I don't think this chapter is great, but if I get time I'll probably change it up. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading and continue to do so, thank you all for your amazing patience. Xxx